Jessie stifled a giggle — so that was why Mrs Jones had been so strict about when she was to come in! But that meant Mrs Jones would already know Jessie had been late, and there was no way could Jessie could have mopped, hoovered and dusted with her boss getting fucked silly upstairs. The best thing she could do was probably to tiptoe back downstairs, let herself out and hope for the best when she saw Mrs Jones again. That was Jessie’s plan, anyway, but as she headed for the stairs, she saw the bedroom door was open just a crack.

Just a little look, she thought, followed by No! Are you crazy?

But the sounds Mrs Jones was making were… sexy. No other way to put it. By the sound of it, she was having a much better time than Jessie had had in the back of Ben’s car. And Mrs Jones was so pretty. Jessie probably wouldn’t have admitted it to herself if the wine hadn’t still been making her a little lightheaded, but she realised she’d love to see her boss naked and getting rogered by some young stud.

All right, she decided, but just a quick look. A minute. No, not even that — then you’re out of here.

Jessie snuck over to the door, peered through — and gasped.

Mrs Jones was naked, all right, stretched out on her king-size bed. Pretty wasn’t the word to describe her, Jessie realised. She was beautiful — toned and fit, and with what Jessie could now see was an all-over tan.

But it was Mrs Jones’ lover who made Jessie gasp; kneeling by the bed was a tall black woman, also naked, with her face buried between Mrs Jones’ wide-open legs. Her head moved up and down and side to side; Mrs Jones moaned, bit her lip and arched her back, face flushed and eyes screwed shut.

The biggest surprise of all, though, was how much the sight turned Jessie on. Okay, she was horny and frustrated, and the wine just made her feel more brazen, but even so the intensity of the sudden tingle of arousal between her legs shocked her.

But then she remembered how she’d kissed Holly once. This creepy guy had been bothering them in a nightclub, and since they’d both had a few drinks they’d kissed to make the guy think they were lesbians. Afterwards they’d both been embarrassed and pretended it had never happened, but if Jessie was honest, she’d enjoyed it. She’d enjoyed it a lot.

Mrs Jones moaned louder, writhing on the bed and stroking her lover’s hair. The tingle between Jessie’s legs got even stronger. Something warm and wet trickled down the inside of her thigh. What was that? When she reached under her skirt and touched the gusset of her panties, she realised — they were soaking, and a shiver of arousal went through her as her fingertips brushed the lips of her pussy.